It Takes More
by kween-idle
Summary: What some people don't realize is that all because you're tall it doesn't automatically make you the master of sports-especially basketball. There's more to it than height to play the game-especially if you don't know how to work around the altitude. So, why don't people understand that? All because I'm tall doesn't mean I'm godly at basketball. It takes more. MurasakibaraxOC


Prologue

Yonkers, New York

Basketball Try-outs

* * *

There was a lingering sense of excitement that loomed throughout the gym. The screech of sneakers scuffing against the floor echoed in the large room—along with the sounds of laughter from the students. Talk rumbled on as the young middle school students were awaiting their turn to try out for the sport that they had fallen head-over-heels for—basketball.

It was the chilly month of October and everyone had made it through a quarter of the school year. It was the anticipated month of the year that most of the students were so eager about. The rattling of the ball hitting the backboard of the hoop sounded, or the crash of the ball hitting the rim as it pummeled back to the floor without making the shot.

The middle-schoolers were practicing their hardest, running tricks and pointers by each other before the coaches would call for them to assemble. They were pumped and ready to go, with their bodies becoming warmed in the process. All but one student was amply working hard for the fated try-outs. Instead, this one girl was standing in the corner of the gym, leaning against the wall.

Her brown-eyed gaze lingered on all of the females packed inside of the large gym. She swallowed the lump in her throat before letting a sigh pass her full lips. She played with her hair, which was thrown up into a messy ponytail, and nudged her glasses up her nose. Everyone scuffled along the gym floor, packed with such energy and confidence. She had no idea why she was even here. Everyone looked like they were such good players and she was just average…maybe even below average.

_Oh, who am I kidding, I'm no good-_She cut herself off with the shake of her head. She wasn't going to think like that, not today. She already decided that she was going to try her best and not be so pessimistic about her abilities. She practiced really hard for months getting ready for the school's try-outs. Now was not the time to start doubting herself.

She felt something bump against her foot and she blinked out of her stupor, looking down. Down below was an orange item, a basketball. She leaned down to pick it up, blinking coyly at the ball before looking up when she head the _pitter-patter _of footsteps coming her way.

"Hey, that's my ball," the said _owner _of the ball demanded, hands out to catch the ball. The brown-eyed girl blinked down at the ball before looking back up at the uninvited guest. She smiled shyly before throwing the ball back to the demanding girl.

"Sor-"she began to apologize, even though she didn't know what she was apologizing for, before the other female rudely cut her off.

"You're really tall," the other girl commented, offhandedly. The brown-eyed girl blushed, with a slight frown on her face. She didn't really like when people talked about her abnormal height. She was only in the sixth grade and she was already five-foot and six-inches.

"My dad's tall," she commented with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. The demanding girl studied her for a moment, playing with the rubber ball in her hands. After a few more seconds, she stuck her hand out before the timid, brown-eyed girl. Said female stared at her blankly and reached out her hand cautiously.

"Name's Meredith Barns. What's your name, kid?" she asked after introducing herself.

The brown-eyed girl hesitated, if only for a second, before smiling softly, "Naomi Oliveria…It's nice to meet you," she spoke quietly. Meredith frowned, pulling her hand away from Naomi. She could tell that the taller female was younger than her, by two years since she was already in the eighth grade. She seemed so soft-spoken and unsure of herself. _Must be her nerves, _Meredith thought to herself.

"Well, what're ya' doing way over here by yourself," she asked, her southern twang peeking out. Naomi could tell that she wasn't originally from Yonkers by the prominent accent that occurred whenever she spoke. Naomi shrugged, looking back at the other players with a worried look on her face.

"Um…I just wanted to be alone for a while?" her statement transformed into some kind of question. Meredith snorted, grabbing the younger girl by the elbow and dragging her away from the wall.

"Your body ain't gonna get warmed up if your sapping up to a wall," she said, looking up at the tall girl with a shake of her head, "Ya' gotta run a lap or something," she explained. Naomi blinked, looking down at Meredith.

It was an odd feeling having someone so demanding, especially since they just met each other—less than five minutes ago. Alas, Naomi allowed herself to be dragged toward the edge of the court before she was pushed forward.

"Meredith…is this all really necessary though?" Naomi asked sulking, "The coaches are about to start any minute."

Meredith rolled her eyes, placing her hands onto her thin waist, "More reason for you to put some pep in your step and get that ass of yours moving," she said flippantly. Naomi looked around, biting her bottom lip. She didn't want to screw up so soon. What happens if she trips and falls while she's running?

"How many do I have to run?" she asked, unsurely.

Meredith tapped her chin in thought as she took the question into consideration. Naomi was correct about one thing; the coaches would be starting anytime now. The buzzer clock that was located on the walls was ticking down and currently, there was only a minute left of the self-practice. "Just run one," she said, "It's all you have time for anyway."

Naomi nodded before taking off around the court at a steady pace. Meredith smiled softly, turning on her heels and walking over to where the coach stood, eyes watching the large clock. Meredith slinked up to the elder female, folding her hands behind her back. The coach didn't even look at teen before reaching out and ruffling her hair.

The head coach was a woman of her late thirties, though no one knew for sure just how old she was. Forbid anyone from asking because if one did, all hell would surely break loose. She had short black hair, combed back into a ponytail and dark brown skin. Her blacked orbed gaze looked away from the clock for a second to glance at the girls' team captain.

"See anyone that you've taken a liking to yet, coach?" Meredith asked, looking back at all of the girls warming up on the court. The coach snorted, shaking her head.

"Not by my standards Barns," she commented, placing the whistle between her lips. "Have you?"

Meredith's green gaze lingered on the tall student she just made run a lap, smile growing on her lips. "That girl," she said pointing at none other than Naomi Oliveria.

* * *

It was on the chilly month of October that Naomi Oliveria had given herself the title of being the clumsiest girl in school. A try-out game was being held and they were all put into teams, ready to show the coach and the other girls their skills. The team that got Naomi was ecstatic because they lucked out by getting the tall girl.

Tall individuals were great at sports right?

Especially basketball.

Well, for Naomi that just wasn't the case. The ball was passed to her and she felt her heart flutter as she started dribbling the ball down the court. She was so excited that she finally got the ball again and in her anticipation she didn't notice her long legs getting into each other's way before it was too late. She felt her legs give from beneath her and she let the ball go to catch herself before she fell to the floor.

She blinked after catching herself, only to find that the ball had been stolen by the other team. She blushed in embarrassment while her teammates glowered at her. They would understand if that was her first time getting the ball taken, but it seemed to happen every single time that she got the ball. How could someone so tall be this terrible at basketball?

Naomi took off down the court, determined not to screw up again. Somehow, she managed to block the other players shot for the basket and steal the ball back, flying down the court. The score was nineteen to twenty-one and the clock was ticking down. There were only eighteen seconds left on the clock and there was no one for her to pass the ball to.

Holding her head high, she took a deep breath in and did what any good sports player would have done in this situation. She took the shot. Squaring her shoulders and bending her knees, she angled the ball towards the basket. Her team needed the three-pointer and they would win the game. Just as the ball left her fingertips, there was a collaborative _No! _that sounded from behind her. She ignored the cry and watched the ball soar through the air, hope laden in her brown eyes. Her fists were clenched tightly as the buzzer went off and the ball hardly even made it to the basket. The ball flew through the air only to fall a few feet in front of her.

The cries and laugher from the winning team echoed throughout the gym and Naomi turned around the face her team, saddened expression on her face as she exclaimed:

"Sorry!"

It was on that day that the entire school's population learned that not all tall individuals are gifted in sports…Especially basketball.

* * *

_**I have never grown out of the infantile belief that the universe was made for me to suck.**_  
_-Aleister Crowley_


End file.
